


Welcome to Purgatory

by keograti



Category: Supernatural, Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cas POV, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Demons, F/F, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Multiple Couples, Purgatory, References to Supernatural (TV), Revenants, Romance, Slow Burn, wynonna earp - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keograti/pseuds/keograti
Summary: The search for a family friend leads Dean and Castiel to a town called Purgatory. What they thought would be an easy search and rescue becomes a battle for survival when they uncover the towns secrets, and more importantly, Wynonna Earp's family curse.[Supernatural/Wynonna Earp Crossover.][NOTE: You do not have to have seen Wynonna Earp to read.]





	1. Chapter 1

Dawn has just broken on the horizon, and its light crawls across the Earth in a careful golden caress, bringing to light endless prairies and distant mountains outside the car windows. Castiel watches the world awaken from his place behind the steering wheel, careful not to become too distracted from his task as he leads the Impala down the same seemingly endless stretch of highway they’ve been on for hours. He dares to turn his gaze to his right for a split second, and feels oddly reassured when he finds that, yes, Dean is still there.

The Impala is oddly quiet, almost lifeless, without Dean’s elephant-sized personality and over-abundant commentary. Like this, slumped against the car door, mouth hanging slightly open as he sleeps, the car feels oddly empty. Castiel blinks, realizing he’s been staring, and looks back to the road, surprised that he’s managed to keep the car on its forward path. Dean mumbles something incoherent and shifts against the door, seemingly losing his perch and falling forward towards the dash. Castiel watches from the corner of his eye as Dean snorts and catches himself, seeming a bit flustered as he jerks himself into an upright position and glances wildly around the cab.

“How long have I been out?” Dean demands within seconds, and Castiel stares directly ahead as his companion scrubs a hand over his face and stretches with a yawn.

“Six hours,”

“Sheesh,” Dean yawns. “Must have been tired.”

“I considered waking you after your customary four hours, but I figured there was no danger in allowing you extra rest,” Castiel says, glancing at a Hawk as it flies lazily across the horizon.

“How close are we?” Dean says, and Castiel can hear more so than see him leaning over the seat to fish his boots out of the backseat where he threw them before trading drivers, and then falling asleep around midnight.

“Nearly there,” Castiel assures him. “Perhaps another ten minutes,”

“Really? Cause it looks like there’s nothing around,” Dean says, bent awkwardly between seat and dash as he ties his laces.

“I would tell you to be patient, but I know from experience that you are incapable,” Castiel says, watching as the small shape of a town becomes visible on the horizon. He can feel Dean’s sour stare on the side of his face and he does his best to keep his smile at bay as he presses down on the gas, urging the car faster down the highway.

“Easy on my girl, Cas!” Dean hisses, distracted, and Castiel says nothing as he slows down just a bit.

“Now that you’re rested, will you please tell me why this trip was of such grave importance that I was allowed to drive?” Castiel asks, and there’s a barely tempered demand in his voice.

Dean had summoned him to the Impala from the road just outside of Chadron, Nebraska, only a few minutes before midnight. His friend was fresh off a hunt, covered in ectoplasm, and slumped listlessly over the steering wheel. He had mumbled something about needing help with an emergency, and Sam having to handle a case in Texas. Castiel, worried the hunter might wreck, had carefully urged Dean to pull over. The hunter had insisted on driving through the night despite Castiel’s warnings, and, surprisingly, after some argument, had agreed to sleep if Castiel would drive through the night to their destination.

“A friend of dad’s called yesterday morning,” Dean sighed, sitting up straight again and squinting at the distant dot of a town as it drew closer. “He said he was in a town called Purgatory, and he needed back up as soon as possible. When I called him back, I didn’t get a response,”

“I hardly see how this qualifies as an emergency, Dean,”

“I called six times, Cas,” Dean sighs. “It’s not like George to miss a call. And if he was asking for backup willingly, then he was in way over his head,”

Castiel nods. He supposes Dean does know this individual, George, better than he does, and that he would know what might constitute an emergency. Dean rifles around in the glove box for something unknown and they settle back into silence for the short remainder of the drive. The town comes up quickly, and they pass an old sign held up by wooden wooden posts, that reads “Welcome to Purgatory, only 7 away! You’ll never want to leave!” Castiel nearly snorts at the sight, and Dean spares him a mildly concerned look at the sound.

“Purgatory,” Is all he says, and Dean rolls his eyes and turns his gaze forward once more. “I find it quite funny,”

“I know, man,” Dean sighs. “We really need to work on your sense of humor,”

Castiel simply ignores Dean’s commentary, instead stomping on the gas and urging the Impala to roar over the town line, flying over a set of railroad tracks much to Dean’s absolute horror.

Dean urges him to stop at the first motel they see, and Castiel waits patiently in the car - banished to the passenger's seat, now - as the hunter books a room and carries a duffel inside to get cleaned up before they begin their search. Castiel looks around what he can see of the small town, taking in the random passage of strangers and a few historical plaques, before the drivers side door opens and Dean slides behind the wheel.

Dean can smell the fresh, minty smell of Dean’s soap, something spicy overlaying it that Castiel guesses is Dean’s shampoo. The majority of his hair is spiked upward, away from his forehead, but the shorter hair on the back of his head lies tame and flat. It’s his usual style, but damp, and Castiel notices he’s wearing a suit instead of his usual plaid and denim.

“Agents Keller and Williams,” Dean says, tossing a badge at Castiel. “You know the drill,”

Castiel nods, obediently slipping out of his trench coat and straightening his tie as Dean tucks his own badge in his coat pocket and glances around the empty street before starting the Impala and pulling away from the motel.

“Why is Sam not with you?” Castiel asks as they drive, Dean eyeing the buildings they pass.

“I told you, there was a case in Texas that needed attention. Figured it might be best if we divided and conquered,” Dean shrugs and Castiel arches a brow, but decides not to question it as Dean pulls over in front of what looks like a bar.

“Looks like George’s kind of place,” Dean mumbles and Castiel follows the hunter’s lead, climbing out of the car and glancing around the fairly empty street as they step up on the sidewalk. Dean turns to face him, reaching out and grabbing at his tie. Castiel, out of habit, holds his breath and stands completely still as the hunter tightens the blue cloth around his neck and smooths the wrinkles in his shirt.

Castiel likes it when Dean touches him. He isn’t sure why, but there’s a sort of warm pleasure that hums through his body when the hunter comes close that he struggles to fully comprehend. It’s moments like these that he treasures, although there’s a certain guarded look to Dean when he comes close that Castiel wishes he could decipher.

Just as soon as he’s come, though, Dean is gone. The hunter doesn’t say a word as he turns and starts to reach for the bar door, and--

“Hey.” The voice is firm, and for a second it reminds Castiel of Dean, until he realizes that this voice is most definitely female and coming from behind them. Dean turns faster than he does and he has just enough time to see the hunter’s eyebrows lift noticeably over his eyes before Castiel turns to find a woman of normal height and stature eyeing them from the seat of Harley. Her dark hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and she wears a heavy leather jacket over a dark red blouse. “Haven’t seen you two around here, before,”  
  
“We’re not local,” Dean says, and his tone is defensive.

“You guys cops?”

“Yeah, actually,” Dean stands with his feet slightly spread, crossing his arms over his chest. Castiel recognizes the position as one of authority, power; Dean, asserting his dominance through his body language. “And you are?”

“I’m a cop too,” The woman says, sliding off her bike and moving towards them where they are standing on the sidewalk. Castiel notices Dean take an instinctive step forward, putting himself between the girl and the angel. Castiel arches a brow at the action, almost amused by the display. Castiel held more power in the tip of his pinky finger than Dean held in his entire body. “Special agent, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?” Dean says and Castiel frowns at the brunette takes a step into Dean’s personal space, eyeing him from head to toe. Dean doesn’t back down. “What’s that?”

“Black Badge Division, not that you would know what that is,” The girl snorts and Castiel places a hand on the hunter’s shoulder, carefully drawing him back a step and nodding to the girl in front of them.

“What? You his keeper?” The girl snorts and Castiel narrows his eyes, well aware of the frightening effect he can have when he wants, but the girl does not flinch.

“My name is Castiel, and my… Charge, is named Dean.” He admits, slowly extending a hand. The girl eyes it, but does not shake it.

“Wynonna,” She says slowly, and Castiel nods. “Now who are you two, really? I’ve faked enough credentials in my life to sniff out a cheap suit and a fake badge,”

“You haven’t even seen my badge,” Dean snaps, and Castiel shoots him a withering look before returning his gaze to Wynonna.

“We’re looking for a friend,” Castiel says. “We are not here to cause any kind of trouble, I assure you.”

“Well, you’re going to cause some if you go in there flaunting a fake badge,” Wynonna says, jerking her head towards the bar they were only moments away from entering. “Besides, if your friend is local, you’ll probably do better to check with the sheriff's office first, you know… Like most normal people do,”

“And if our friend isn’t local?” Castiel says, and he can feel Dean practically vibrating with energy at his back. Something about this girl has gotten under Dean’s skin, and Castiel can’t help but be intrigued.

“Guess I could help you out,” Wynonna shrugs, finally stepping down off the sidewalk and leaning against her bike. “Got nothing better to do,”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dean growls at the same time Castiel says, “Thank you,”

Wynonna glances between the two of them, eyebrows raised, and Castiel silences Dean with a single withering stare. When he looks back at Wynonna, she seems amused. “Your friend,” she says. “He got a name?”

“George McClaire,” Dean says after a beat of hesitation and Wynonna’s face changes for a fraction of a second, almost too quick to notice, but Castiel does. She shifts against the bike, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Older dude, kinda scruffy looking? Thinks plaid is still fashionable?” Wynonna tries and Dean nods, taking a step forward once more.

“You know him?” He demands and Wynonna sighs, shaking her head as she climbs onto her bike and reaches her for helmet.

“You boys better follow me,” She sighs and Dean opens his mouth to complain but Castiel starts towards the car and he grumbles to himself as he hurries to pass the angel up, moving to the driver’s seat. Castiel slides into the passenger's seat, acutely aware of Dean’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head as he watched Wynonna start her bike with a roar and back slowly out of her space.

“What?” He finally asks as Dean reluctantly pulls away from the curb to follow.

“We don’t know her, and we’re just going to follow her god knows where?” Dean demands.

“She seems like she may know something about George. Why are you so bothered by her?” Castiel asks.

“She’s _cocky_ ,” Dean gripes and Castiel simply stares at the hunter, unsure how he can't see the notable similarities between himself and Wynonna. “And she got in my face, and you-- you were talking for me! I’m not a kid,”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, and the hunter is noticeably grinding on his teeth.

“What.”

“Deep breaths,” He smirks, hoping for at least a smile.

“Oh, _screw you, Cas,_ ”


	2. Chapter 2

They follow Wynonna out of town. Dean is still simmering quietly behind the wheel and Castiel is doing his absolute best to ignore his childish companion as they turn down a dirt road and begin moving towards what appears to be an old ranch. It isn’t in the worst of shape, but it’s clearly very old and hasn’t been very well taken care of. There’s a narrow bridge over a ditch leading onto the property, and an old wooden fence encircling the main house and the lot in front of it. Castiel squints at a sign held up on heavy wooden posts, making out the name ‘Earp’ just as they pass beneath it--

 

And Castiel is hit with a sudden electric pain in his gut, and he feels as if he’s being crushed beneath a concrete wall. He gasps for breath, barely managing to cry out “Stop!” Before he tosses open the Impala door and throws himself out of the car and back over the property line they’ve only just crossed. He lays on his back in the dirt, the hot prairie sun beating down on him, and closes his eyes, focusing on not being sick as he listens to the sound of the Impala engine cutting off and Dean’s hurried footsteps coming towards him.

 

“Cas?” The hunter demands and Castiel feels his shadow blocking out the sun on his face. 

 

“I’m alright,” Castiel says slowly, opening his eyes to find Dean hovering worriedly over him.

 

“What the hell just happened?” Dean demands and Castiel shakes his head, slowly sitting up. He can still feel the echo of pain burning through his insides, and something feels very… Off, almost unnerving, about the space he had only briefly occupied. Like nails on a chalkboard; unnatural, unpleasant.

 

“I should ask you the same thing,” Wynonna’s voice is suddenly very close, and Castiel hears the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked. Dean slowly leans away, hands raised as he climbs to his feet. Castiel doesn’t dare move from where he’s sitting on the ground, seeing as he’s staring down the barrel of a shotgun less than three feet away.

 

“Easy,” Dean says, slowly lowering his hands. Castiel sees his right hand twitching towards his side, where his own gun is hidden. “Wynonna, right? Why don’t you put that down,”

 

“Why don’t you tell me  _ what _ exactly  _ he _ is? And don’t even go for your gun, or I’ll blow a hole through his pretty face, and what a shame that would be,” Wynonna isn’t bluffing, Castiel can see it in the tense lines of her face. Dean’s right hand stills.

 

“ _ What _ he is?” Dean tries to play dumb. “He’s Castiel, he’s my friend--”

 

The barrel is suddenly pressed against Castiel’s throat and the angel lifts his chin to accommodate its shape. He could survive the blast, he was sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to-- healing a wound of that magnitude would deplete his grace, and possibly put him out of commission for a limited time. He wasn’t as durable as he may have been ten years ago, much as he hated to admit. His grace had been through too much, was too weak to provide the invincibility it once had.

 

“The truth, if you please,” Wynonna says and Dean meets Castiel’s eyes for a fleeting moment.

 

“You won’t believe me,” Dean says, and Wynonna laughs almost startlingly loud. Castiel watches her finger carefully where it rests on the trigger.

 

“Try me,” Wynonna challenges. “You see, the homestead is special. Nothing that isn’t human can cross my property line, so that makes your boyfriend not human,” 

 

“He’s not,” Dean agrees, adding, “My boyfriend, either. He’s not human, and he’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Wynonna snorts. “But enlighten me, then. What is he?”

 

“He’s an angel,” Dean says slowly. “His name is Castiel, and I promise you, he is an honest-to-God, wings-and-a-halo angel.”

 

Wynonna stares blankly at Dean for a moment, before erupting into laughter, shaking her head. Dean takes her brief lapse of judgment as a chance, drawing his pistol and leveling it. Wynonna wipes a fake tear from her eye and finally allows her chuckles to die down.

 

“You must be dumber than you look if you believe in angels,” She smirks, giving his weapon no thought. Castiel is growing frustrated, and he isn’t particularly pleased to hear this woman insult Dean, either, so he sighs, beginning to climb to his feet. Wynonna flicks the safety off on the shotgun, barrel pressed to his chest as he stands, facing her. “Did I say you could get up?”

 

“No,” Castiel says as he grabs the shotgun from her, pulling with little effort and ripping it from her grip. He breaks it easily over his knee, tossing the pieces into the ditch beside the road. “But you are not in control of this situation, much as you believe yourself to be. Dean does not need to protect me. The only reason I allowed him to is because I do not feel like getting shot today,”

 

Castiel must give the girl credit, she is fierce. She stands her ground, though her hands shake a bit at her sides. Dean takes a step forward, gun aimed at Wynonna’s head. Castiel knows it’s a hollow threat; Dean’s safety is on, and he wouldn’t dare shoot an unarmed opponent unless absolutely necessary. 

 

“Wynonna, my previous statements stand. We are not here to cause trouble. We’re just looking for our friend,”

 

“You expect me to believe you’re an  _ angel _ ? Those don’t  _ exist _ ,”

 

“Listen,” Dean says, taking another step forward. “I didn’t believe him at first, either, but--”

 

Castiel barely catches the glint of silver from the window of the house, but he has just enough time to step in front of Dean as the crack of gunfire echoes across the prairie and Castiel jerks at the searing pain in his left shoulder as the bullet breaks through his skin and lodges somewhere in his scapula. He can tell simply from his position that the bullet would have hit Dean squarely between the ribs, and he does everything he can to keep his temper at bay.

 

“Shit, Cas,” Dean barks, staring wide eyed at the angel where he stands very still between Dean and the house. 

 

“I will ask you only once to call off the gunman in the house,” Castiel says lowly and Wynonna stares at the red blossom of blood on his dress shirt before turning to the house and calling out to whoever was inside to come out.

 

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean frowns, turning the angel to face him and peering at the hole in his shirt. 

 

“I’ve had worse,” He says, although Dean is already well aware of that fact. “But the bullet is lodged in my shoulder blade. I will remove it when I’m alone,” Castiel says and Dean shakes his head, sighing as he glances at Wynonna. She’s still staring at Cas.

 

“What do you need to do for him to prove he’s not a damn threat? Dude has saved my ass a thousand times over, alright? This isn’t the first bullet he’s taken for me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. He’s not here to hurt anyone,”

 

“I believe you, alright?” She sighs, shaking her head as she looks towards the house. Castiel looks over in time to see a figure drawing near to the property line, dressed in attire that might have been appropriate in the early nineteenth century but simply seemed out of place now. His hand rests on his gun where it’s strapped to his hip, an old piece, and his moustache is nicely trimmed. Castiel blinks, surprised to realize he recognizes the man.

 

“Doc Holliday,” He says, more to himself than anyone, but the man hesitates just inside the property line, having heard him.

 

“I don’t reckon I know you,” He says slowly and Castiel blinks, realizing, no, he wouldn’t. Castiel had been in a different body at the time. Dean gives him a confused look and he simply shakes his head; he’ll explain later. “Wynonna. These gentleman bothering you?”

 

“No, I, uh… They’re friends of George’s. The, uh… The one can’t come over the line, though, he’s… An angel, apparently.”

 

“Well, I do suppose I should beg pardon for my sin seeing as I’ve just shot a winged messenger of our good Lord,” The sarcasm is dripping off of Doc’s words and Castiel simply stares as Dean stiffens at his side.

 

“Look, believe it or don’t believe it, I don’t give a damn. We’re here about George, then we’ll be out of your lives for good,” Dean snaps and Castiel can feel the hunter nearly vibrating at his side. Doc and Wynonna are watching him carefully, their attentions diverted from Castiel for the time being.

 

“George is dead,” Wynonna says it slowly, and her voice is pitched lower than usual. Castiel can tell she’s bothered by the news, but she says it matter of factly, and Castiel appreciates that she doesn’t sugar coat the information. Dean rises up to his full height at Castiel’s side and the angel rests a hand on his shoulder; it’s as much of a display of comfort as it is an iron shackle keeping Dean from barreling forward and starting a fight that Castiel is sure he won’t win, with Doc Holliday a few feet away and a gun on his hip.

 

“What did you do to him?” Dean hisses the words through his teeth and Castiel tightens his grip.

 

“Nothing,” Wynonna spits back with just as much venom. “I liked George. I did everything I could to keep him safe,”

 

“Oh, because you’ve been so hospitable to us,” Dean says, motioning to the shotgun. Castiel sees Doc’s fingers twitch at his side and he shoots the gunslinger a withering look, daring him to try for another shot. 

 

“If you would have just  _ told me  _ you’re a hunter, and mentioned that your friend here isn’t human, maybe I would have invited you inside for some lemonade and small talk,” Wynonna snarks.

 

“Trust is a two way street,  _ honey _ ,” The sarcasm drips off Dean’s words and Castiel carefully steps between the two, his back to Wynonna and Doc, his hands on Dean’s shoulders. Enough is enough, and he can’t stand around fighting; he has a bullet wound to attend.

 

“Dean,” He pitches his voice low, comforting and soft. It’s a voice he, surprisingly, has ever only bothered to use on Dean. “You’re upset. I don’t think Wynonna or Doc hurt George. You shouldn’t take it out on them,”

 

“How the hell would we know if they did something to him,” Dean hisses, dropping his head to meet Cas’s eyes. “We don’t  _ know _ them, Cas,”

 

“I do,” Castiel assures. “Doc and I were friends, once, many years ago. He’s a good man, Dean.”

 

Dean grinds his teeth, eyes almost fever bright as he meets Castiel’s gaze for a long moment before finally exhaling, dropping his head. “Alright. Alright. If you trust him, then… I’ll give it a try. Doesn’t mean I have to trust  _ her _ , though.”

 

Castiel rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue as her turns to face Wynonna and Doc once more. 

 

“What happened to George?” He asks and Wynonna and Doc share a fleeting look.

 

“Nothing good,” Doc finally says, removing his pale cowboy hat and smoothing his mid length hair back, away from his face. “George was a good man, and what happened to him wadn’t right. We fully intend to avenge his death,”

 

“He was here on a hunt,” Dean says from over Castiel’s shoulder, and he sounds exponentially calmer. “He called me and my brother asking for help. Something here scared him, I think,”

 

“You’re right to assume, mister…?” Doc arches a brow and Dean hesitates before stepping forward, offering a hand much to Castiel’s surprise. 

 

“Winchester,” Dean says, and Doc takes his hand, shaking it firmly. “Dean Winchester,”

 

“John Henry,” Doc smiles, releasing Dean’s hand after a moment. “But my friends call me Doc. Who's your partner, there?”

 

“Castiel,” Dean introduces him, and Doc’s arches an eyebrow.

 

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any great, great grandmothers of the same name who lived around these parts, would you?” Doc says and Castiel shakes his head.

 

“No, but I was in a female vessel. I believe we shared a drink together, one evening,” Castiel says, and Doc blinks at him.

 

“Vessel?” He echoes and Dean snorts a laugh.

 

“It’s a lot to explain, but, basically, Cas can body hop, but only if he has the permission of the person in the body,” Dean explains in simplistic terms and Castiel picks at the wound on his shoulder, eager to get the bullet out so he could heal the wound.

 

“Well, who the hell is wearing now, then?” Wynonna demands and Castiel shakes his head.

 

“There’s no one in that body. I mean, there  _ was _ . His name was Jimmy, but he died, so, that’s, uh… That body is all Cas,” Dean tries to explain and Castiel simply watches as Wynonna and Doc share startled glances.

 

“Alright, well…” Doc clears his throat and Wynonna steps forward, peering into the Impala and Dean takes a defensive step towards her. 

 

“Easy, there, just admiring him,” She says slowly and Dean looks suddenly horror struck.

 

“Excuse me, Baby is a  _ girl _ ,” He snaps. “The only woman I’ll ever truly love,” He pats the roof of the vehicle fondly and Doc and Castiel strike similarly confused faces.

 

“Alright, alright,” Wynonna sighs heavily, stepping away from the car and glancing briefly at Doc. “Look. George was here hunting, you’re right. He was the first hunter I’ve ever met, and he was… Helping me out with some stuff, before he bit it.”

 

“What kind of stuff?”

 

“Potentially the-end-of-the-world kind of stuff,” Wynonna says and Dean chuckles.

 

“We’ve stopped the apocalypse, lady. Whatever you have going on, I’m sure we can help,”

 

“You’d want to?” Wynonna arches a brow and Dean shrugs.

 

“If George thought it was worth his time, then… I owe it to him,” Dean says and Castiel is honestly a bit surprised by his change in attitude. “When can I start?”

 

“Now, if you want,” Wynonna offers, and Dean nods, and they begin to walk towards the house. Doc follows lazily behind them, and Castiel barely hears him ask, 

 

“You stopped the  _ apocalypse _ ?” 

  
Dean is on the front porch before he realizes Cas hasn’t followed, and he turns around to find a very irritated angel staring him down from the opposite side of the property line, the bullet from his shoulder lying in the dirt at his feet and his wound slowly healing as he scowls.


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel sits patiently on the opposite side of the property line for nearly an hour before Wynonna manages to find the old native-American charm that protects the space where it has fallen between two rocks. She carries it carefully over the property line and Castiel can feel the sudden drop in energy, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t hesitate as he steps over the line, braced for the same stinging pain as before. Thankfully, it doesn’t come. 

Wynonna waits until Castiel is inside to step back over the property line, and Castiel can feel the energy flare once again-- thankfully, this time, he is trapped inside with the brunette and not trying to force his way through the barrier. She arches an eyebrow at him, and Castiel frowns, asking, “What?”

“Well… Usually when the force field goes live again, anything that isn’t human inside gets, uh… Carried out,” She admits and Castiel sighs.

“You didn’t think to warn me that something of that magnitude was a possibility?”

“Wanted to see your face,” She winks and Castiel shakes his head, stricken once more by just how similar this woman was to Dean as they walk towards the house. The ground beneath his feet is worn to dust, and Castiel can almost feel the spirits of several generations around them. It’s a quiet presence, studying him, tentative of him, but the attention seemed warmer when directed towards Wynonna. “So. What’s you and blondie's story, anywho?”

Wynonna shakes Castiel from his thoughts and he blinks, arching an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Dean, right? You two seem close. How’d that happen?”

“Well, I… Saved, him,” Castiel says slowly, unsure what this woman might think if he were to attempt to explain that he had physically dragged Dean out of Hell. “That was nearly ten years ago, and we have been through a great deal together since then.”

“You, uh…” Wynonna clears her throat, motioning with her hands. Castiel is at a complete loss. “Y’know, uh… Look, I mean, I don’t-- my baby sister has a girlfriend, so--”

“Oh,” Castiel finally understands as they reach the front porch and he hesitates on the last step as Wynonna reaches for the doorknob. “No. Dean likes women.”

“What about you?” Wynonna hesitates to open the door and Castiel shrugs.

“I am indifferent to sexuality,” He admits. “I have never been with a man, though.”

“Oh, well have you been with a lot of women? Couldn’t see why you wouldn’t be a hit,” Wynonna looks him over, smirking as her eyes trace his form in a way that makes Castiel clear his throat uncomfortably. Almost as if on cue, however, the door knob turns under Wynonna’s fingers and opens from the inside. Dean peers out, one eyebrow raised. His eyes pass over Wynonna, but move directly towards Castiel, and he smiles.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel greets, unsure if his cheeks are as heated as they feel after Wynonna’s attention.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean says, stepping out onto the porch. Wynonna takes a step back, putting a careful foot of space between herself and Dean, although Castiel is almost positive the action is subconscious. “Done sulking?”

“I do not sulk,” Castiel says without hesitation and Dean smirks, perching himself on the railing of the porch. Doc wanders out of the house, tipping his hat a bit lower on his forehead to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. He goes towards Wynonna, and she doesn’t step away. In fact, the two stand closer than Castiel thinks Dean would deem socially appropriate. 

“Whatever you say,” Dean chuckles. He’s looking away, at the distant horizon. The sun falls across his face like golden silk, illuminating thousands of barely-there freckles and turning his eyes neon green. The tired, aged creases of his face seem to fall away and he is young once more before Castiel’s eyes. The sight punches the very breath from Castiel. “George is buried in back,”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel says, looking away before he can get caught staring. “I know he was a good friend to your father,”

“Yeah,” Dean says, and Castiel knows that this is just the Winchester way; bury the pain with the body, and hold onto it until it explodes some other day. Castiel shifts uneasily on his feet, sparing a glance at Wynonna and Doc where they are watching Dean.

“What are we going to do?” Castiel asks. Try as he might, Castiel was never really in charge. If Dean said jump, Castiel would always be there to ask how high. 

“Stay,” Dean says after a moment. “Doc explained to me what’s going on here… This place is cursed, and I think it’s about time they got some help to break it,”

“Cursed?”

“My great grandaddy,” Wynonna says, and Castiel turns to face her. Doc is busy lighting a cigarette at her side. “Wyatt Earp. He, uh… He did something, and it cursed us all… Every generation of heirs-- we have to kill the same seventy-seven demons, over, and over again… If we get all seventy-seven, then the curse is broken. If not… Well, then… My kid gets to take up the mantle when they turn twenty-seven.”

“It was my understanding that Wyatt was a good man,” Castiel frowns.

“Good men can do bad things,” Doc says, exhaling a soft cloud of smoke, directing it carefully away from the other individuals on the porch. “I’m sure Wyatt didn’t mean to bring this curse on his family. Everything he did was to protect his family,”

“Alright,” Castiel nods slowly. “How are we supposed to find these men?” 

“And women,” Wynonna adds, as Dean speaks at Castiel’s back.

“Apparently they’re all trapped here,” Dean says. “Can’t leave the ghost river triangle or something,”

“My sister,” Wynonna adds, “Waverly. She has a lot of research-- names and photos of people, but… They look just like us. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“We are familiar with hunting demons,” Castiel assures, glancing at Dean where he is watching the horizon still. There is something contemplative in his face and Castiel wonders what he’s thinking.

“Good,” Wynonna nods. “I had a friend who was helping me out, but he’s… Gone, so I could use some hands.”

“We’ll stay as long as you need us,” Dean says, finally turning to look at the group once more. “My brother is in Texas. If we’re still here when he’s done, I’ll tell him to head this way,”

“Alright,” Wynonna nods, crossing her arms. “But we aren’t starting today,”

“Why not?” Dean makes a face, climbing off the railing and coming to stand at Castiel’s side. He looks irritated, but Castiel knows he’s simply eager to get to work and avenge George’s death.

“Because you aren’t familiar enough with town yet, and today is Doc’s birthday,” She says it almost petulantly, as if daring Dean to argue with her. 

“Okay,” Dean says after a slight hesitation. “Okay, fine. We’ll regroup tomorrow?”

“I’ll be here,” Wynonna nods, and without saying much else she disappears back into the house. Doc follows her like a shadow, tipping his hat once before closing the door. Castiel watches Dean where he’s hovering at the angel’s side, a nervous energy.

“You should return to the motel,” He suggests, and Dean raises a brow.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I cannot leave the boundaries of the property without Wynonna. It may be easier if I simply stay here overnight,” Castiel looks around the arid grounds, trying to decide where he may best spend the rest of his time.

“Are you sure?” Dean frowns and the angel nods.

“I’ll be fine, Dean,” He assures at the hunter nods slowly, sighing. 

“Alright, well… I’ll see you in the morning, then?”

“Goodnight, Dean,” He bids and the hunter smiles a little, reaching out and squeezing Castiel’s shoulder lightly. It’s an oddly sensitive touch, one that leaves Castiel’s skin tingling uneasily once he draws away, heading towards the Impala.

“‘Night, Cas,” Dean calls over his shoulder.

Castiel watches from the porch until the Impala disappears from view.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for not updating this other than just not having the energy. Short little filler chapter, but will post more later :)

Castiel spends his night wandering the boundaries of the perimeter. It’s a rather large property compared to most, so he can’t say that he feels trapped, but he does choose to walk rather than fly. Something about walking soothes him, and he hums along with the distant howls of desert coyotes as his feet fall step-by-step to the Earth. 

The lights in the house went out not long after Dean left, and it’s been hours since then, but it only feels like moments to Castiel. The moon is three quarters of its way through her track in the night sky, and the temperature has dropped significantly, but it’s blissfully quiet.

Castiel is nearing his twenty-somethingth lap of the property when he’s suddenly aware of a light leaving the house, flickering softly as it draws nearer towards where he’s stopped to stare.

When its draws close enough, Castiel recognizes Wynonna’s shape in the dark. 

“Hey feathers,” She says by way of greeting, and Castiel’s mouth twitches with the faintest hint of a smile. “How’s the shoulder?”

“All healed,” He begins walking again, albeit a bit more slowly, and the brunette walks with him.

“So what’s the deal with the 4a.m. pacing?” She wonders, “Do you not sleep?”

“I do not require rest or sustenance,” Castiel informs, and Wynonna nods to herself. The candle she holds in her hand trembles in the wind and she cups a careful hand around the flame to protect it. “It’s early for you to be awake. Are you alright?”

Wynonna snorts an amused sound, shaking her head. “Hardly.”

“Would you like to talk about what’s bothering you?” Castiel offers, though he hardly expects her to take him up. Dean wouldn’t.

“It’s hard to sleep when you know you’re being hunted,” She sighs. “I’d rather be up and about than lying in bed pretending everything is fine.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, isn’t sure that he can or should. He knows that Dean suffers from the same afflictions; he’s spent enough nights as a silent guest in Dean’s bedroom to know, watching him toss and turn with wide open eyes through the night. There is not advice enough in the world to absolve that kind of torment.

“You know you could have come in the house,” Wynonna changes the subject. “You didn’t have to stay out here.”

“I like it out here,” Castiel says. Wynonna casts a sideways look at him.

“I get the feeling that you’re a weird little dude,” She says, but Castiel does not miss the endearment in her voice. 

“So Dean has told me,” 

“Yeah, about that,” Wynonna stops, setting her candle carefully in the desert sand and propping herself atop a rock. Castiel follows her lead, settling himself in the dirt across from her. “What’s Dean’s deal?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean,”

“The whole… Defensive, tough guy, deal. There’s gotta be a reason,” She explains and Castiel shrugs. 

“He has been that way as long as I have known him,” Castiel admits. 

“He’s sweet on you,” Wynonna points out and Castiel is careful not to meet her eyes as he draws sigils into the sand at his side. “You said you saved him, though, so I suppose that makes sense.” 

“Our bond is… Profound,” Castiel admits.

“You sure you guys aren’t getting it on?” Wynonna teases, extending a leg to prod Castiel carefully with a foot. 

“As I said earlier,” Castiel smiles. “Dean is my best friend. Nothing more.”

“Alright, alright,” Wynonna chuckles. “I’ll stop teasing you about it. Lord only knows I get the same thing with Doc,”

“I can imagine.” Castiel is distracted, tracing in the sand. There’s an inkling in the back of his mind, like an itch he can’t quite scratch, and he shifts uneasily where he’s sitting. “I believe Dean may be on his way.”

“What?” Wynonna arches a brow. Castiel stands, brushing dust off his clothes, and Wynonna follows his lead. “It’s like four o’clock in the morning. He’s at the motel,”

Just as she says it, the sound of crunching gravel drifts towards them and a pair of headlights appear in the distance. Castiel, unsurprised, moves towards the sound while Wynonna stares in shock.

“How could you possibly know that?” She demands.  
“Our bond is profound.” Castiel reiterates. “Wait here.”

Wynonna doesn’t argue, lingering near the rock she had been perched on while Castiel moves to meet Dean at the property line. The Impala rolls to a stop, the engine idling a moment before Dean kills it and douses the desert in silence once more. The coyotes start up again within seconds, and Castiel waits patiently for Dean to climb out of the car. When he doesn’t, Castiel frowns and comes around to the driver's side window.

Dean is gripping the wheel with white knuckles, staring straight ahead with a taut jaw.

Castiel taps the window gently and Dean jumps, as if coming out of a daze. Castiel takes a step back, and Dean slowly climbs out of the car. He looks tired, like he never even got to sleep.

“Hey, Cas,” He gruffs.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean closes the door with a squeal and moves around to lean against the hood. Castiel follows, leaning next to him.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Dean doesn’t offer anything more than this; he doesn’t have to. Castiel knows about the nightmares, the visions of Hell that still plague his charge. He wishes he could burn them from his mind.

“Nor could Wynonna, it seems.” Castiel tilts his chin to where the woman is stationed a few yards away. “Would you like to join us?”

“Not yet,” Dean shakes his head. “Just… give me a second, okay?”

“Take all the time you need.” Castiel means it.

They sit there, shoulders barely touching, and the coyotes howl in the distance. Castiel scans the horizon beyond the homestead, looking for what he isn’t sure. He doesn’t dare to say anything, though, leaving the silence between them for Dean to manipulate however he sees fit.

Minutes pass before Dean finally speaks.

“Think we can trust them?” He says. Always business.  
“Why wouldn’t we?” Castiel counters.

“I don’t know, man. Revenants? Those are rare enough, but to have a pack of them coming after her family… seems a little far fetched.”

“As I’m sure the idea that you halted the apocalypse would sound far fetched to her,” Castiel replies. “We all live inside our own realities. This situation is just… not something you’ve seen within your own, yet.”

Dean watches him out of the corner of his eye a moment before sighing, shaking his head. “Okay. Okay,”

The sun has started to rise. The constellations aren’t nearly as bright, and the sky has shifted from black to royal blue. “It might help if you try to respect her.”

“I don’t not respect her,” Dean grumbles. “I just—“

“Don’t know how to handle her?” Castiel suggests.

“That’s one way to put it,” Dean nods. 

“I get that a lot,” Wynonna appears at their side, settling on the hood on Castiel's opposite side, trapping him between the two humans. Dean visibly jumps.

“It’d help if you didn’t sneak up on me,” Dean snaps and Castiel sighs.

“I didn’t sneak, you just weren’t paying attention.”

Wynonna clarifies. “But anyways— are we done with this bromance moment? Cause you guys are going to have to earn your keep around here,”

“Helping you break your family curse isn’t enough?” Dean wonders, and Castiel rolls his eyes.

“What can we do?” Castiel wonders, and Wynonna smiles.

“Well, now that you mention it— I could really go for some pancakes.”


End file.
